


After the End

by Ralph_E_Silvering



Series: The Negotiator [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Lives, Anakin has anger issues, Beru and Hondo make cameos, Darth Vader Redemption, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, M/M, Obi-Wan will always be a Jedi Master, Redemption, Tatooine, post-Rebels finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 23:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14031024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralph_E_Silvering/pseuds/Ralph_E_Silvering
Summary: Obi-Wan tilted his chin up until their eyes met, and Anakin felt shame burn through him.But Obi-Wan was still smiling, his eyes deepest blue-green, and as he bent to place a gentle kiss on Anakin’s lips, the younger man finally began to relax.“Hello, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, joy suffusing his presence.





	After the End

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own anything from Star Wars. I didn’t think I would add anything to “The Negotiator”, but this idea wouldn’t leave me alone. So here you go! This takes place after Vader dies. For all the Vader saves Luke at the end, I don’t think he’s entirely redeemed. I feel like he took the first steps, but he did the opposite of what he did in Revenge of the Sith – killed someone to save someone he loved; Padmé and Luke. So, I still think he’s mostly Vader when he enters the afterlife. The idea for the Afterlife is not mine, but from the incomparable Terry Pratchett in Discworld.

Everything was dark.

Vader existed in the nothingness and wondered if this was what the afterlife was like; empty and cold and black. All that endured in this place, was his past and what he had done there. All that remained were his choices.

All of those faces – all the betrayal and horror and pain, all the grief – surrounded him. All the children. Palpatine’s glee. A million voices screaming out on Alderaan before there was only silence. Ahsoka’s shocked disbelief lingering in the Force between them, the vivacious girl he’d known long gone, beaten down by loss. Padmé’s echoing mausoleum. Luke’s fury when Vader had discovered and revealed the existence of his daughter. Leia. Leia Organa. He’d had a daughter as well as a son, and they had been raised without him. They had been taken from him! By his old Master. By Kenobi.

Obi-Wan.

He had wanted the old man to suffer as he had suffered – to know his pain. He had been waiting 20 years to beat his old Master, knowing the old man wouldn’t die without him.

But the insufferable Jedi hadn’t even put up much of a fight. He could have, Vader knows he could have! But he’d just smiled mysteriously – a hint of his old charm on that weathered, unrecognizable face – and disappeared.

And then what had happened afterwards, when Vader had touched the old man’s lightsaber…

Vader shifted uncomfortably and felt – rather too late for it now, he thought annoyed – something a bit like shame. A flash of heat travelled through him as he remembered…everything.

He had…he had lost all control over himself.

_In the best possible way,_ his subconscious whispered, sounding disturbingly like Ahoksa.

_Finally,_ whispered Padmé in his mind, and he remembered her eyerolls whenever he ranted to her about how stubborn Obi-Wan was and how he never took proper care of himself. _It took you long enough._

Vader growled, his harsh, mechanical breathing loud in the echoing emptiness around him. And realized, for the first time, that he was still in the suit. Panic raced through him, overloading his respirator as he tried to suck in air, and his fingers flailed at the releases on his helmet.

_No, no, no, no!_ It wouldn’t come off. It wouldn’t come off! The flickering lights on his control panel winked red and mocking in the darkness.

He stumbled and fell, knees and hands striking something hard, and yet strangely shifting, beneath him. He screamed – rage and fear pouring out of him, through him, consuming him, as he realized he would have to spend eternity as a monster.

_Kenobi_ , he though wildly, light-headed with rage. _This was Kenobi’s fault_. He had put him in this suit after all; betrayed him and watched him burn! Left him for dead!

Vader screamed and screamed and screamed.

There was more rage and fear in him than even he had realized. When he finally calmed down and his breathing was once more a dull wheeze, he realized that his hands were clenched around coarse grains of – he opened his leather-clad fists and watched them slide away – sand.

He rolled onto his back. Below him was a hard, sandy surface and above him were stars. Thousands and thousands of stars. This wasn’t Tatooine; it was still bitterly cold and silent and empty, with not a breath of wind, and the sand surface stretched endlessly in all directions, hopelessly flat and barren. But the stars were brilliant above him and they gave enough light for him to see.

Idly he tried to count them, unconsciously falling back into the breathing patterns Obi-Wan had taught him as a child, and his heartrate slowed. He grimaced when he realized what he was doing and felt a perverse desire to dredge up every dark deed in his memory to bring the rage back –

– _alone, Obi-Wan had even left him alone_ –

– _you deserve it_ –

– And the voice sounded like him. Like child him –

– when he flashed back to Leia’s face aboard the Death Star. She had been so beautiful; just like her mother and her grandmother. But the pride and the defiance and the fire in her were all from him. Fire. But not the wildfire which had consumed Anakin Skywalker in his youth. Leia Organa was all controlled fire, clear-sighted, her purpose held firm under a will like diamond.

Palpatine would never have been able to corrupt her, use her, no matter how hard he would have tried.

_Because Obi-Wan hid her_ , his subconscious supplied. _As he hid Luke. Because he allowed her to grow up safe and loved, instead of forged into a weapon like you would have done._

He thought of Luke – all light like his mother, but with Anakin’s dreams in his desert-blue eyes – and, for the first time since he had known of his son’s existence, he was glad that Obi-Wan had kept the boy from him. And from the Emperor.

His children had been safe and free. And loved. Obi-Wan would have adored them and his old master – out in that barren desert – wouldn’t have been entirely alone., because he would have had them. Protected them. Had them to live for.

Pain burned through him as he thought that maybe his children – their very existence – had saved his master from despair…

…and the world shifted.

Twin suns at midday burned through his hastily-adapting receptor lenses. He stood on the very edge of a cliff, above the shifting sands of the Dune Sea – and watched the ship approach.

It was a derelict freighter, falling to pieces, and made before even the Clone Wars. It buckled and back-started worryingly as it came in for a landing on the cliff, smoke belching from it in dark plumes.

Vader felt his old Master’s presence in the Force and turned, watching him exit the simple, sand-stone dwelling and wait patiently for the ship to land. He was as old as the last time Vader had seen him; hair thinning and completely white, face leathery and wrinkled, and his blue eyes infinitely tired and sad. But his beard was still neatly trimmed, and his robes were scrupulously clean, if somewhat torn and threadbare.

Obi-Wan didn’t seem to see the black armored figure of his former pupil. He moved out of the shadow of his small house, placed his hands in the sleeves of his robes, and waited. Only someone who knew him as well as Vader once had, could have seen the concern crinkling the corners of his eyes.

The ship, surprisingly, managed a creaky landing and the gangplank lowered in a series of squeals and rusted joints. “Kenobi,” shouted a flamboyant voice which Vader half-remembered, from within. “I’ve brought your little friend, as I promised!”

And stumbling down the ramp, arms wrapped around herself and clearly injured, was Ahsoka.

It must have been…it must have been just after Malachor, Vader realized, feeling Ahsoka’s roiling Force presence and the exhaustion with which she moved.

Obi-Wan stepped forward and Ahsoka fell into his embrace, her arms going around his back as tight as possible and her face buried in the side of his throat. Her shoulders were shaking, and she was –

S – crying, Vader realized, shocked. Moving closer to her, one mechanical hand reaching out before he remembered, and rage consumed him once more. She left you too, a voice reminded him –

– _she was barely more than a child, and accused of treason_ , Padmé reminded him –

– _you can’t stop the change anymore than you can stop the suns from setting_ , his mother consoled –

– _she came back_ , Obi-Wan whispered –

Obi-Wan placed his lips on her head, carefully avoiding her montrals, and held her tight. “You’ve had a busy day,” he remarked, humor threading just slightly through the elegant tones of his weathered voice. “Inquisitors, Maul, Palpatine and Vader. I could feel it from here. However did you manage to fall into that, little one?” His hands stroked her back soothingly.

Ahsoka’s small chuckle was watery, but there. Then she shivered and tried to burrow even deeper into Obi-Wan’s arms. “Anakin,” she murmured, and Vader jumped. But they hadn’t seen him.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said simply and Vader could feel their mingled grief, still so undiluted and raw, in the Force.

“I know why you didn’t tell me,” Ahsoka murmured against Obi-Wan’s throat. Then she pulled back, hands going to the older man’s shoulders as her tear-filled blue eyes met Obi-Wan’s slightly hollow gaze. “I’m so sorry you had to endure this all alone, Master,” she said, fiercely.

Obi-Wan’s smile was soft and fond. “That I still have your presence, Ahsoka, is more than I ever deserved.”

Vader watched his former Padawan take a slow breath and search for calm, and a familiar figure finally exited the ship.

“Hondo Ohnaka always keeps his word,” he declared dramatically, opening his arms wide to encompass Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s reunion. “Especially to Jedi.” The pirate was so old, so much smaller than Vader remembered. _Had time really been so unkind to them all?_

“Thank you, my friend,” Obi-Wan said quietly, and missed the surprised joy which flashed across the old pirate’s face. But Vader and Ahsoka saw, and something unclenched inside them both.

“You are welcome for dinner,” his old master continued. “It’s not much but what I have is yours.” Traditional Tatooine words. A gift, and a sacrifice, of hospitality on such a harsh planet.

Hondo looked between them and shook his head. “Another time,” he promised. “You have Jedi business to discuss, I can see.” And with that he took off with as much dust and exhaust fumes with which he had landed.

Vader watched Obi-Wan and Ahsoka vanish into the cool interior of the adobe dwelling…

…and the world shifted again.

Sand twisted and twirled around his old master, dancing in the air before him. Obi-Wan sat, cross-legged, at the base of a giant sand dune. Early morning sunlight caressed his old skin and closed eyes. A gentle breeze blew through scattered clumps of tough gorse, which grew defiantly in the slight shelter offered by this eddy in the desert. Obi-Wan’s hood was thrown back, his face was utterly relaxed, and his hands rested gently on his knees as the sand particles grew in number around him.

They twisted and twirled into streams which interwove and formed beautiful patterns in the air – an elegant maelstrom of glittering dust – with Obi-Wan at the center of it.

The control and power and patience such a display required filled Vader with unwilling awe.

Vader felt another presence and looked up. There, at the top of the dune, were two figures. One was unmistakably Ahsoka, dressed in rough but practical clothing. A hood covered her face and montrals. The other was a leathery-faced human woman, who remained at the top of the dune as Ahsoka jumped down.

Vader watched his former Padawan walk to the edge of Obi-Wan’s dancing sand patterns and sit, cross-legged, mirroring him from a distance of several hundred feet.

Ahsoka pushed her hood back, letting the sun fall on her face. She placed her hands on her knees, closed her eyes and…reached out.

Individual particles rose up around her, slowly at first, and then gathering momentum as she whirled them around her head and began to form twisting patterns. Vader watched, stunned, and felt the delight in the woman standing above, as Ahsoka made flowers and stars, spaceships and strange creatures from distant worlds.

And then, between one moment and the next, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan reached out towards one another.

The sand moved together, intertwining seamlessly, glorious beyond words, as two masters of the Force made the desert dance around them.

Vader had never thought Tatooine could be beautiful until this moment.

Long minutes later they finally let the sand go and particles rained down upon them. They got to their feet and headed up the slope towards the woman.

“That was absolutely wonderful,” breathed Beru Whitesun Lars, and the bright smile on her face made her look decades younger. “Two years ago, you couldn’t do that,” she said to Ahsoka.

“I’ve been practicing,” the Togruta Jedi said, eyes shining with joy. Obi-Wan’s smile echoed the fierce swell of price which coursed through Vader…

…and the world shifted once more.

Twin suns sank – huge, red and orange orbs of fire – over the horizon. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka sat together at the edge of the cliff, legs dangling out into space, and there was peace between them.

Vader came and sat beside his former apprentice and watched as Ahsoka rested her head upon Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“It’s almost time, isn’t it?” she aske quietly.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan agreed.

“I – ” Ahsoka bit her lip and trailed off. “His presence is so bright,” she said instead. “So pure. Uncorrupted. I don’t want – ”

She stopped again. “You would be so proud of Leia as well. Bail and Breha raised her well. She’s amazing. And she’s so strong. Not just in the Force, but how she fights for those who need help.”

“I have no doubt of it,” Obi-Wan murmured, but his joy filled the Force around them.

“Do you think they can save Anakin?” Ahsoka whispered.

Obi-Wan was silent for a long, long time. “I don’t know,” he said at last, “but I hope. Ana – Vader can’t feel my love, no matter how many times I try to tell him he’s not alone. It’s like a black hole has swallowed him completely. I cannot reach him.” _I wasn’t important enough,_ remained unsaid, but Vader knew how his Master thought.

‘No,’ he wanted to say, ‘you were the only thing which kept me alive all those years. Even if it was just the hatred of you, the burning need to face you once more, I survived because of you.’

“They are untouched by Vader’s past,” Obi-Wan continued. “Completely new to him. Perhaps, instead of anger at the past, the will give him hope for the future. And I will give them what help I can.”

_As wise as Master Yoda_ , Anakin had once said to Padmé about his Master, and Obi-Wan truly was. Luke _had_ given him hope, and Leia as well, at the end.

“Come,” his Master said to Ahsoka, now, touching her knee gently. “I have something to give you before you go.”

There was an old wooden chest, ornately carved and carefully oiled, in Obi-Wan’s house. The old Jedi went to it and opened the lid as Ahsoka and Vader followed him. From within, Obi-Wan pulled out two lightsabers. “These belong to you,” he said, handing them to her.

Ahsoka stepped back, shaking her head. “I am not a Jedi Knight.”

“You are no longer a Jedi Knight, true,” Obi-Wan agreed, smiling that smile which always informed a younger Anakin that he had walked into a trap. “But you are a Jedi Master and these have always belonged to you.”

Ahsoka’s eyes grew wide.

“You were always a Jedi, even when you left the Order,” Obi-Wan said gently. “You and I agree, and you know this to be true. Will you accept these once more?”

Ahsoka’s hands hesitated over the silver cylinders. Vader found his heart was beating frantically. “I’ve made so many, many mistakes,” she whispered.

“Not as many as I have,” Obi-Wan admitted quietly, and Vader felt like he had been punched in the gut.

Ahsoka’s eyes flew to meet Obi-Wan’s. “You, Master?” she asked, shocked.

“Every night I see…” he trailed off suddenly, voice going rough.

Ahsoka’s eyes filled with compassion and Vader realized that Obi-Wan saw _him_ every night in his dreams. That the Jedi Master blamed himself, no matter how hard he tried to let go.

Obi-Wan took a small, fortifying breath and met Ahsoka’s eyes again. “We are not saints, but seekers,” he said, voice wry and quoting a common Jedi saying. “All we can do is tray again, wiser, if we fail.”

Ahsoka reached out and took the lightsabers before stepping forward and hugging Obi-Wan tightly. “I’m never going to see you again, am I?” she asked, but Vader could hear that she already knew the answer.

Obi-Wan stepped back and placed a gentle hand on her cheek. “Look for me in the Force and you will always find me.” Obi-Wan let her go. “And the Force will be with you, Ahsoka, always.”

Ahsoka smiled and Vader tried to reach out them –

And everything went dark once more.

Vader opened his eyes – his real, human eyes – to darkness and cold. He was lying on sand – of course he was – and his cheek, the only part of his skin actually touching the sand, felt so raw and sensitive that he felt like he was being rubbed raw by sand paper.

He scrambled up, overbalancing on his own legs, so unused to them after all these years, and landed on two arms, only one of which was mechanical, before hauling himself to his feet. He momentarily forgot he had to breathe without the automatic respirator, until his eyes watered and he doubled-over coughing. His hair was back in riotous curls about his face, but he wore the clothes he’d often chosen at the beginning of the Clone Wars, and he no longer had the familiar presence of his lightsaber at his hip.

He was still in the Dune Sea. He could tell by the position of the stars overhead. He clenched and unclenched his fists, wiggled his toes in their thick boots, and blinked against the grit which was getting into his eyes. He was…he was _freezing,_ and his clothes were itching, and his eyes burned, and he could feel everything, _everythin_ g, all over his skin.

Oh Force, this was worse than any time he had taken the suit off in his chambers. There, it had just been dull pain and the overwhelming memory of his Master’s touch. Now it was…it was everything. Too much.

A particularly harsh gust of wind sent sand all over him, down his clothes, in his hair, scraping his skin. Vader tried to walk forwards – anywhere, away – and felt the panic and fear rising up in him again. “Master,” he cried desperately into the wind. “What’s happening? Where are you?”

The wind and the desert laughed at him.

_You were cruel in life, why should death be kind to you?_ Demanded the endless sand dunes and the faces of the sand people he had massacred at the age of nineteen.

‘You showed no mercy to others. Why should they be merciful to you?’ It was Master Windu and the children – the younglings – were behind him.

‘I should have expected to find you here, holding Vader’s leash,’ Leia spat at Tarkin.

‘Anakin, you’re breaking my heart,’ Padmé cried. ‘You’re going down a path I can’t follow.’

Luke’s hand disappeared to a red blade, and the boy screamed in horror and let himself fall to certain death when Vader revealed their relationship.

“I don’t,” Vader whispered to the rising storm. “I don’t deserve mercy.”

_For the sake of those who loved you,_ hissed the desert. _Who bled for you and suffered for you._

“Do you think they can save Anakin?” Ahsoka whispered, her voice the soft morning drifts of sand under a golden sun.

“I don’t know, but I hope.” And Obi-Wan’s voice was the calm at the center of the storm.

Vader ran. He had no idea how he knew where to go, but he kept running, stumbling, refusing to slow, always moving forward, until he was climbing a never-ending slope and there, around that giant boulder, was Obi-Wan’s little house.

Vader stumbled, tried to be quiet, and all-but tumbled through the unlocked door.

He fell on his knees to the floor and the doo swun shut behind him.

Inside was silence. Warmth and peace filled the little dwelling, as the sands howled without. Vader held his breath, heart beating frantically…

…and there it was. From a little alcove, set close to a high window, came the sounds of Obi-Wan’s quiet breathing. Vader’s arms were trembling, and he sucked in air greedily, wanting to sob with relief. Shaking out sand, he pulled off his noisy boots before drifting – as quietly as he could – over to Obi-Wan’s side.

He didn’t know how he knew, but the Force whispered that he mustn’t make a sound. Moonlight fell across the older man’s face, highlighting new lines of stress and grief, and recent greying at his temples, but this was the Obi-Wan Vader had last seen at Mustafar.  

The Jedi’s sleep was restless, and he frowned and made a soft moaning noise, low and pained, before he rolled away from Vader. The recently-deceased Sith Lord made to lie down next to him and then hesitated. His sand-filled clothes itched and scratched, and he wanted – _needed_ – to feel…

He pulled off his tunic and underclothes, and slid under the blankets, pressing himself against his master’s strong back and drawing the man into his arms. He whimpered a bit, feeling his Master’s warmth all through his body. He buried his face in Obi-Wan’s fragrant, soft hair and just held on.

As long as he was here it would all be alright. It would be alright.

He finally stopped shivering.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan mumbled, his voice a mix of exhaustion, relief and…arousal.

Vader realized how tightly he was molded to the other man, that his flesh hand had wandered underneath Obi-Wan’s sleep-shirt, seeking skin and warmth, and was now skating over the smooth muscle, running over the firm planes of his stomach, over ribs and across his broad chest, before coming back lower and dipping just under the band of Obi-Wan’s sleep-pants. Sudden mischief stole through him.

“What’re you…what are you…doing?” Obi-Wan sighed, voice still half-asleep and falling off into a quiet moan as Vader’s hand brushed tantalizingly over his half-hard erection, before the younger man flattened both hands soothingly over Obi-Wan’s thighs.

Vader spit into his leather glove, too impatient to look for oil – if Obi-Wan even had any – and wrapped his Master’s plump sex gently in his metal hand. The glove on it was warm and wet and rough.

Obi-Wan’s head fell back against Vader’s shulder and he gasped as his eyelids fluttered.

“Ana – Anakin.” His beloved voice, usually so refined and now rough with lust, sent arousal burning through Vader’s gut. He placed his lips against the delicate swell of an ear, buried in auburn hair.

“Relax, Master, I’ve got you.” He didn’t even recognize the low, soothing tone of his own voice. “I’ve got you,” he promised – an oath to the desert – and he had never meant any words more.

It didn’t take long for Vader to tease Obi-Wan to full hardness. As his Master arched lazily into Vader’s hand, the younger breathed, “And when you dream, dream of this.”

Obi-Wan came over Vader’s fist, his release a thousand pinpricks of light in the Force.

He fell back into Vader’s arms, sated and already almost entirely asleep, when a jolt ran through him and he twisted, turning until they were face to face.

His eyes fought to open. “Anakin,” and his voice was suddenly filled with desperation, his eyes straining to see Vader’s in the darkness and his hands coming up to hold Vader’s face, thumbs stroking over his cheeks.

Sudden despair, warring with stubborn hope, filled the Force between them. Vader was alarmed. “It’s alright, Master,” he soothed. “I’m here.” His hands gripped the Jedi Master’s hips hard, as though his very presence could anchor the distraught man to him.

“Anakin, I love you,” Obi-Wan said fiercely. “I have always loved you.” His eyes were already closing again, utter exhaustion writ in every line of his features. “Please believe me,” he begged.

“I believe you, Master,” Vader said, hurriedly, but he didn’t think Obi-Wan heard him. He held his Master tight against him. “I love you, too,” he whispered, amazed to find that his cheeks were wet with tears. His heart felt too full for his chest.

‘Please let me stay,’ he silently begged the Force, not for himself but so that Obi-Wan would no longer have to be alone with his grief. He knew, though, that life had not worked out that way, and Obi-Wan had grown old, alone, amid the barren sands of Tatooine. Without him.

It was a long time before Vader fell asleep.

When Vader woke to find himself still wrapped in Obi-Wan’s arms, he was Darth Vader no longer.

The sun was shining, warm and golden, across a bed which smelled entirely of Obi-Wan. Anakin yawned and stretched in the circle of his Master’s arms, refusing to open his eyes and burying his face in the hollow of his Master’s throat.

Obi-Wan chuckled and Anakin froze at the sound in sudden terror. His Master’s hands were soothingly stroking his bare back. “Dear one, morning is here and it’s time to wake up.” That lilting voice was filled with joy.

Anakin clenched Obi-Wan tightly and shook his head frantically.

Obi-Wan’s laughter was merry and bright, as it had been before the war, and Anakin stilled, drinking it in greedily.

He had never thought he would hear it again.

Obi-Wan’s hands were gently prying him away. “Dear heart,” he coaxed, “let me look at you.”

Anakin trembled at those words, words he never thought he’d hear even once, and couldn’t meet Obi-Wan’s eyes as his Master’s calloused fingers skated over his cheeks and throat, his shoulders and back, and finally up into his hair. Obi-Wan tilted his chin up until their eyes met, and Anakin felt shame burn through him.

But Obi-Wan was still smiling, his eyes deepest blue-green, and as he bent to place a gentle kiss on Anakin’s lips, the younger man finally began to relax.

“Hello, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, joy suffusing his presence and causing the younger man to begin to weep.

Obi-Wan gathered him close and held him as Anakin cried, so much grief and regret pouring out of him that the former Sith Lord thought it would never end. It took a long time, but at last Anakin wore himself out, lying pliant and mellow in his Master’s arms. Obi-Wan’s body was still pressed against his, warm and safe, and his hands continued stroking along Anakin’s skin, smoothing down his spine and brushing through his hair.

Anakin dozed in Obi-Wan’s arms, content to watch the sun move around the room and to listen to the sounds of his Master’s heartbeat.

“Where are we, Master?” he murmured, after what felt like half the morning had passed.

Obi-Wan hummed in his throat as he considered his reply. “You might call this…a half-way place.”

Anakin took in the Tatooine sun and Obi-Wan’s auburn hair. “You save me Master, didn’t you?” he realized, remembering the lightsaber and the weeks of raw sensation which had followed, Luke’s smile on the second Death Star, and the power of the desert which had given him a second chance.

Obi-Wan’s smile against Anakin’s cheek was as warms as sunshine. “Many people saved you, dear one. And we can rest here as long as you need, but adventure calls us once again.”

“And we will face it together?” Anakin asked, hope beyond hope in his voice.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said simply.

And Anakin believed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Not entirely happy with the ending. Is anyone confused about the timeline?


End file.
